


Only Prince Would Sing About Us

by mwestbelle



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: BDSM, Cisgirl!Patrick, Community: trope_bingo, Dom/sub, F/M, Face Slapping, Femdom, First Time, Genderswap, Nipple Play, Silence Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 00:56:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mwestbelle/pseuds/mwestbelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Penny Stump takes her frustration out on Bob.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Prince Would Sing About Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anoneknewmoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoneknewmoose/gifts).



> Written for trope_bingo 2013, prompt "genderswap." For Misha, who twitter-shamed me into writing her Bob/cisgirl!Patrick ♥ Title is adapted from "Bad Touch" by The Bloodhound Gang.
> 
> WARNINGS: Some judgy/kink-shamey talk about BDSM (but he gets over it...)

Some journalist calls Penny Stump "the halfpint diva at the helm of Fall Out Boy, stomping around the stage in her sneakers with all the force of a six foot tall dominatrix in knee-high leather boots." Apparently, Pete thinks it's the funniest thing he's ever read, and no matter how many times Penny tries to throw it out, somehow the clipping from the magazine always turns up on her fridge. The first time Bob went to get a beer out of the one in their LA apartment, he squinted at the clipping for a long minute. Penny was refilling a bowl of salsa to feed to the ravening horde of musicians that had jammed themselves into their not-that-expansive living room. He could tell she was watching him, but he didn't know what to say. He just got his beer, walked away, and pretty much forgot about it.

The point is, really, that he had plenty of warning. He should have known.

Penny is adorable, though. She's even more adorable when she's pissed, which is often, though Bob isn't actually stupid enough to say so. She slams doors and swears at her laptop, but...she barely clears five feet and she's got that red hair and her cheeks get all pink when she's mad. Bob can't help but be a little bit charmed.

It makes it easy to kiss her, when she's pacing in front of him and ranting about some ridiculous change the label wants to make to one of her arrangements. He's sitting on the couch, and all he has to do is reach forward and grab her hips, pulling her in close and stopping her with a kiss. She goes still in his grip, and for a second he thinks he's fucked it all up, but then she's wrapping her arms around his neck, going after him hard.

"I'm...ugh." She grunts against his lips and digs her blunt nails into the back of his neck. She pulls back a little and squints at him. "I need to...are you up for it?"

"Yeah," Bob says, because hey, he's the one who instigated this. Besides, he's pretty much always up to fuck.

Penny's room is the one place in the apartment Bob's never been. She moved in first, and the door has always been closed. He never really cared, but it's interesting to see it now. It's about the same size as his room, but her bed is giant, must be a king. It takes up almost all of the room, way too much bed for this much girl. Her Macbook is at the foot and she picks it up and sets it carefully on the ground before grabbing the hem of her t-shirt and peeling it up over her head.

Well, if she's not wasting any time, Bob isn't about to put the brakes on. He checks her out a little when she turns back towards him: creamy breasts just about to overflow her bra, her soft middle, the swell of her hips when she shimmies out of her jeans. Bob has been playing video games pretty much all day; he just has to shove his sweatpants down and tug his shirt off and he's ready to go.

"Get on the bed." Penny kicks her jeans off and holds onto the footboard for balance whiile she pulls her socks off. "Hold onto the headboard."

Bob obeys. She's bossy, but he likes that. If she wants to get a little rough, he's fine with that.

What he doesn't expect are the cuffs.

Or the ballgag.

"What the fuck." It's not a question. Bob stares at the shit Penny just pulled out from under the bed and dumped on the mattress like it was fucking normal. They're serious cuffs, none of that leopard-print Spencer's bullshit, and it's more than a little bit terrifying. 

Penny scowls. "You said you were up for it."

"I'm up for...sex. Normal, not-freaky sex." Bob looks back at the...implements. He's only ever seen a gag like that on the fucked up sex episodes of police TV shows. It looks wildly out of place just hanging out on Penny's green geometric Target bedspread.

"First off, Frank told me what you did to your bunk, so I don't know who's talking about non-freaky sex." Penny points at him when he tries to talk, silencing him with a glare. It's a weird feeling. "And two, this is what I _do_. Why do you think Pete thinks that stupid article is so funny?"

Bob was all ready to defend himself, because Frank is a motherfucking liar, but then she says that, he forgets about the spurious assaults on his sexual character. "Wait, really? I just...I thought it was, uh. The opposite."

Penny plants her hands on her hips, which is pretty cool now that she's in her underwear. If only there weren't weird sex toys staring at him. "I don't really care about what you think about my preferences. You said you wanted to go, and if you want to chicken out, that's fine. Are we doing this or not?"

Bob looks from her to the stuff. It's been a long time sine he's gotten laid, way too long, and Penny is hot and sassy and almost naked right here in front of him. It's not as though he hasn't been wanting this, even if it isn't exactly how he pictured. He'd been freaked out by the first girl who wanted to get friendly with his ass, after all, and that had ended up _awesome_. "I'll do the cuffs, not the gag."

"Fine." Penny rolls her eyes and pushes the gag away, but she's starting to smirk instead of scowl. The cuffs look even more dangerous dangling from her hand, but she's obviously a pro, has them around his wrists before he can change his mind. "You'll just have to keep your own mouth shut."

Bob has never been the brightest guy, but even he isn't usually this dumb. "Or what?"

Penny slaps him across the face. It's no play slap either, he can hear the shocking impact of skin on skin, feel his cheek start to sting. He's never been slapped like that before; it's shocking more than painful, but he can definitely feel it in his jaw. She's got a lot of power. "Shut up, Bob. I listen to people talk bullshit all day, you think I want to hear it now?"

This time he shakes his head, silent. Penny smiles and strokes his other cheek, scritching his beard gently. The difference in sensation is intense and...sort of intriguing? It's a contrast, and he shifts a little on the bed, trying to get comfortable with his hands up behind his head.

His dick really starts to get interested when she straddles him, but she doesn't settle enough that he can feel her. Instead, she runs her hands over his chest, letting her thumb trace the grain of the hair, before she rests her fingertips lightly against his nipple. 

"Do you have sensitive nipples, Bob?"

It's a hard answer to give a nod or shake too, so he shrugs awkwardly. Penny makes a soft thoughtful sound. She starts to roll his nipple between her fingers, teasing and coaxing it to hardness. He's always sort of liked having his nipples played with; it's nice, but it never leads to desperation or anything, so he usually doesn't bother asking for it. Penny has good hands, short talented fingers with a variety of calluses. It's sort of meditative, just breathing and feeling her touch him, a slow thread of arousal starting to twist in his gut.

Just when he's starting to think she was all talk after all, she pinches his nipple hard. He yelps, jumping a little under her but...god, his fucking dick _twitches_. She holds on for what feels like a long time before letting go and flicking her nose, like he's a bad dog. "I told you to be quiet. Did you change your mind, do you want the gag?"

Right now, Bob has no idea how he's supposed to stay quiet with her treating him like her own private punching bag, but he shakes his head. Penny is watching him closely, those big blue eyes framed by fair lashes, and she doesn't even blink as she reaches for his other nipple. This time she just pinches, with none of the lead up. It's absolutely nothing like getting a titty-twister from a douchebag buddy. He's not usually naked for those, with a girl kneeling over him in her underwear. Plus, he can't retaliate. All he can do is sit and take it.

Bob's feeling like he needs to conduct a pretty thorough self-examination, with all this weirdass shit suddenly turning him on, but there's no time because Penny does not fucking stop. Bob knows you don't have to be big to wreck someone -- he has met Frank after all -- but he never thought this five-foot-nothing on a good day girl would be able to take him apart like this. She uses those talented hands on him, pinching and scratching, tugging at his hair when she deigns to kiss him. She digs her nails in hard; she knows all of the softest, tenderest spots on his body, right under his ribs and the base of his throat. It's not so much outright painful as it is relentless, until his entire torso feels hot from the sting. And the whole time he has to swallow down every sound that threatens to rise from his throat.

He never thought pain would do it for him. He's been in enough fights, had enough rhythm guitarists take him down, to know that pain is a fucking bitch, not something to get off on. But Penny's methodical tactile torture is nothing like a bar brawl or Frank smacking into his kit. She's like a fucking surgeon, silent and meticulous, except even as a teenager he never got a boner like this at the doctor's office. 

When Penny finally reaches back to grasp his cock, he's so fucking hard that he gasps. He bites his tongue immediately after, and Penny laughs. With her free hand she pats his cheek. "I won't count breathing."

He exhales heavily, half joking but half real relief. There's a little warm feeling settling in his chest, pleased that he made her laugh, got such an easy display of affection after all that. Penny squeezes his dick, and he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning.

It must be hard enough for her. She moves back, tugging his boxers down just enough so that his cock springs free and lets the elastic snap against his balls. Bob stifles a grunt, but he lets too much of it out, he can tell before the slap comes. And god, does it come. The opposite cheek, the one she stroked before, hard enough that he half expects there will be a cartoon red handprint left behind.

"This is going to be difficult for you," Penny says to him, and now there's a condom in her hand. She rips it open and fists Bob's cock a few times before she starts to roll it down. "This is your last chance to take the gag. Do you want it?"

Bob is already struggling, choking back sound, but he shakes his head. He doesn't want the gag. Not because it's freaky or any of the reasons he thought he didn't want it...he wants to prove to her that he can do it all on his own.

It only takes seconds for him to regret his choice. Penny is so fucking tight and hot around him. Even her moans are perfectly pitched, and Bob might be able to admire the musicality if he wasn't so jealous that she can make whatever sound she pleases. He doesn't know if she's purposefully teasing him or if she's just this vocal during sex. Either way, she moans and grunts, wriggling to accomodate him, and she _talks_.

"I wanted to feel you, really feel how you open me up. You're so big, Bob, all over, I've been wondering if you'd be good for me. You've been so good, taking it so well, and you never even knew you liked this. Did you date bossy girls, Bob? Did you like it when they told you what to do and never really knew why?"

He can't answer her, but he can fuck her harder, rocking his hips up to meet her, digging his heels into the mattress for better traction. He wishes his hands were free so he could hold her hips while she rides him. Not to guide her, like he normally would, because there's no way she would let him, but just to feel the motion.

"Pete told me this would happen, y'know." Penny's voice is starting to get breathier, and Bob jerks a little. He doesn't generally consider Pete Wentz to be acceptable dirty talk. Penny laughs. "He has a weird...he calls it boning radar. He said to me, 'Penny For Your Thoughts Stump, work your frustrations out on Bryar. Ride him like a show pony. He can take it.' And he was right."

Despite the Wentz talk, Bob can't help but preen. He usually thinks of himself more as the prize stallion type, but he'll take it. Getting her praise feels so good, more satisfying than talk has ever been for him.

"So...fucking...right." Penny braces her hands on his shoulders, riding him hard, and Bob can feel her starting to flutter and clench around him. She's getting close and he wants to help her, touch her, but he can't move his hands, can't even say anything. She's just using him like a sex toy, and apparently he's a pretty good one. "Don't come."

" _What?_ " Bob breaks, and he deserves it, he deserves the slap even as she's fucking herself on his cock. It hurts even more, to be buried so deep inside her at the same time. The contrast is strong. He has to bite his lip to keep from whimpering.

"I don't want you to come. Not until I tell you. Hold on." Penny doesn't lose an ounce of vigor; he's sure the tingle in her palm only makes it hotter to feel the drag of his cock inside her. He doesn't know if he can wait, he honestly isn't sure, and then she's coming around him. She feels incredible, and he can't do it, he _can't_ , but somehow he does.

Somehow, he stays hard as she slowly slides off his painfully hard cock, settling on the bed next to him and petting the insides of her own thighs, all slick and self-satisfied. He stays hard while she slowly peels off the condom, leaving his dick red and rock hard in the bedroom air - it feels cool, after being inside her heat.

He stays hard while she wraps her hand around him, squeezes the base, stays hard until she leans in and presses her lips against his hot bruised cheek and says, "Come." Just the word is enough by now. He comes with a stifled shout, splattering his belly and her hand, probably some on her thighs.

They're quiet for a minute, just breathing. Penny rolls onto her hands and knees, crawling up the bed to unlatch the handcuffs and set Bob free. While he rubs at his wrists, she grabs a tissue off the nightstand and swipes at the mess they made of themselves and the bed. Their eyes meet, and he quirks an eyebrow at her. She snorts.

"You can talk again."

"Fuck," Bob says with feeling.

"Really? After all that, is that all you have to say?"

Bob considers for a moment. "Yeah."

"You're a weird guy, Bob." Penny tosses the tissue in her trash can and clambers back on the bed with him. It doesn't seem like a brush off, and even less so when she settles in next to him, fitting herself against his side. He can feel the warmth of her breath on his neck while she exhales. "Thanks. I needed that."

She shifts around a few more times, getting comfortable, then reaches down and gives his cock a friendly pat that makes him imagine her slapping it as hard as she'd slapped his face before. It makes his balls want to curl up inside his body and his brain go slightly foggy with lust at the same time. Sex was a lot less confusing before Penny, but he has a feeling that he won't miss it.


End file.
